


No Calm Before the Storm

by TCRegan



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCRegan/pseuds/TCRegan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nora frequently has nightmares about what happened in Vault 111. This new world can break even the strongest people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Calm Before the Storm

The sterile stench of the vault permeated her senses. She remembered that above all, even beyond the pounding of her heart, the feel of the heat from the bomb, her lungs burning for air as the elevator took her to her future. Scared. Terrified really, but not wanting to show it. Nate carrying Shaun, cradling him. The sight of her son's face as he fussed. The feeling of the stiff fabric as she changed into the Vault-Tec issued jumpsuit without thinking. Giving Nate one last kiss before stepping into the cryopod. If she' had known. Oh god, if she had known. Why did she have to relive this again? There was strange static in her brain, like the TV tuned in between stations and an odd scent, like the river when it froze over in winter. Then she saw them. Her family. And the man who took her husband away from her. His cold, dead body as she allowed herself to weep on the floor of Vault 111.

"Nora."

"Nate," she muttered, half-awake now, batting away the hand that gripped her shoulder, that was shaking her, trying to pull her away from her husband. "Nn-what?"

MacCready looked down at her, leaning up on an elbow, concern shining through the dark, his features flickering in the light of the fire. They'd stopped in an abandoned house for the night on the way back to Sanctuary Hills. She remembered vaguely running through the rain toward shelter, shivering in the cold as she tried to light the fire. His warm hands cupping her own. He kissed her on impulse. That was hours ago, after a meager meal of InstaMash and Pork n' Beans. She pushed him away then.

_"Sorry," he said, though it was obvious he was embarrassed._

_"Don't worry about it." She sighed. "Mac."_

_He looked away, waving a dismissive hand, and they went to sleep._

"Bad dream?" he whispered. "Here." He pulled his coat down from where it had been hanging in front of the fireplace and draped it over her. "Don't bother complaining. I insist."

Instinct took over and she rolled toward him, burying her face in his chest. There was a moment's hesitation before he wrapped an arm around her. She was used to being strong. Though Nate had seen war, he always had a soft heart, a kindness about him that was her mirror opposite. Her battlefield was the courtroom. Her 'never say die' attitude won her three times as many cases as she lost as a defense attorney. Showing weakness was not an option. Nate was more nurturing, more affectionate. That had always been the case. But it was easy for her to be strong in their world. The one they'd made together in their safe, quiet neighborhood. This new world was cruel and unforgiving. She had to be crueler and even more unforgiving. She needed caps and information. Most importantly, she needed to stay alive. Shaun was out there and the men who killed her husband were as well. She would make them pay.

"Are you okay?" MacCready asked. 

_He should know better._ She looked up at him, angry with herself for showing that vulnerability, even in front of someone like MacCready whom she counted among the few she felt she could trust. He had her back. Impulse made her do it, leaning up and kissing him. She felt the surprised tensing of his muscles, the grip on her arm as he tried to figure out if he should push her away or hold her closer. She made the decision for him, shoving him back onto his sleeping bag and straddled his waist.

"Nora," he whispered against her lips as the kiss broke.

"Shh," she ordered, sitting up. She crossed her arms over her chest and pulled the ratty t-shirt over her head. Many of her allies teased her for collecting clothing from across the Commonwealth, but she found it a thrill to discover clean, untouched, and fashionable garments. Her jeans already lay draped over a chair to dry, leaving her clad in a quickly fraying bra, and panties that had seen better days.

"Oh god," MacCready managed as she slid down, deft fingers working the button to his pants. He exhaled sharply, hands resting on her thighs. "Nora, are you-"

"Shut up or I'll duct tape your mouth closed."

He shut up.

It wasn't Nate, but at this point it didn't matter. She needed to feel something other than anger and sadness and the ever growing despair that she may never find Shaun or her husband's killers. MacCready's cock was warm and heavy in her hand as she stroked him to hardness, listening to him as he moaned softly. There was a sharp intake of breath as she pulled down his foreskin, thumb swiping over the sensitive head. His hands slid up her waist, rough and calloused like Nate's. She seized one, pulled it between her legs, and gasped at the sensation of his fingers against her. Even through the thin cloth, the touch set her nerves alight and she rubbed hard against them.

"I'm going to fuck you," she promised him.

She tugged at the hem of his undershirt, pulling it up to his chest. He shifted to remove it and she leaned down to kiss him again. His hair was greasy and dirty as she ran her fingers through it, just like everything in this world. Nothing would be clean again. She didn't care. She pulled hard on the thick locks and nipped his bottom lip, ignoring the pained, "Ow!" of protest. But his hands were back on her, unclasping her bra, moving toward her panties, cupping her ass, pulling the fabric aside. She sat up again, letting the thin straps of elastic fall from her arms, giving him full view of her chest.

"You're beautiful."

"Shut up."

Uncomfortable though it was, she couldn't wait any longer. The thin cloth of her underwear pulled roughly to the side, she pushed herself on top of him, feeling the familiar fullness inside her that she just couldn't achieve with her fingers. She closed her eyes. It was Sanctuary Hills again, Nate lying spread eagle in their bed, two of his silk ties around his wrists attached to the headboard. Shaun was asleep, Codsworth watching over him while he folded the laundry. Their door was locked. The first time they had sex since she'd given birth and she promised him something special. A treat for the both of them after having to wait for so long.

The storm continued to rage outside, a flash of lightning followed by a crack of thunder. Her Pip-Boy protested, clicking loudly from its spot inside her pack. She dragged her nails down his chest, stopping only when he grabbed her wrists. Nate never cared about the marks she left during their enthusiastic sessions. He would wince and joke about them later, calling her 'wildcat' and other teasing affections. She wrenched her hands away and MacCready grabbed for them again. With a gasp, she leaned forward, his erection pressing against just the right spot.

"Nora, oh fu-... fff…"

"Nate," she whispered, her thighs aching as she rode him faster. Her fingers hurt, nails digging into his wrists though he refused to let her go.

_"That's it, baby," Nate whispered. "Harder. Faster, baby, do it. I love you so much."_

Hot tears pricked the corners of her eyes but she was too proud to let them fall. She squeezed around his cock, the sound of sweat-slicked flesh against flesh drowned out by the storm. He came first, a strained sort of groan as his hips rose, back arching. She rode his orgasm out, so close to her own end. Savagely she thrust his hand between her legs once more, glad he still had the presence of mind to finish her, fingers finding her clit with little trouble. For a few brief seconds, the world disappeared, her eyes shut tight, a blinding white behind her eyelids as she thought of nothing.

Blissful nothing.

Then it came crashing down like the thunder outside. She sobbed; her breath hitched. She pressed the back of her hand against her lips and opened her eyes. Sanctuary Hills disappeared. Her bedroom faded. And her husband was not the man beneath her, looking at her not with arousal and excitement, but concern. While she couldn't blame MacCready for that, she wished for anything for him to stop. He knew she wouldn't break, that she wasn't made of glass. A thousand snarky lines came to her head, but she didn't trust herself to say any of them, lest her voice break and betray the utter devastation she felt now. Instead she moved off him, standing on sore, shaky legs and leaned over, plucking her bra and t-shirt from the floor and dressed quickly.

"Nora – don't tell me to shut up," he said, hurrying to straighten his own clothing.

"Fine," she managed, keeping her back to him. She felt her jeans, the durable denim still damp. There had to be something else she could wear. She looked around, almost at a loss, her eyes stopping on his duster. _No._ She wouldn't let herself become that vulnerable, needy woman. Not now.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "Do you want to talk?"

She sat down on the battered armchair her jeans were draped across and pulled her legs up underneath her. "No."

"You're going to freeze over there," he tried again. "Come lay down."

"I don't need a nanny, MacCready."

There was a beat of silence. Then, "Fine," in an angry tone.

She heard him shift, the slithering sound of the sleeping bag as he settled down. The wind whipped through the broken house, the draft causing her to shiver. It _was_ cold and the uncomfortable wetness between her legs wasn't helping. Obstinate, she sat there, watching the fire flicker until she heard his quiet snoring. Careful not to wake him, she stood and pulled off her underwear, wiped away the mess, and tossed them into the fire. 

In her bag she found a pair of laundered long johns, pulled off some raider scum who called her 'Sweetheart' and laughed in her face before she shot him in the stomach. The fabric had been boiled and scrubbed with Abraxo several times but the stain was impossible to get out. She pulled them on, then crawled into her own sleeping bag, watching the subtle rise and fall of MacCready's chest as he slept. Despite everything, he was a good man. Maybe in another life… but no, this _was_ another life, and her heart still belonged to Nate. She looked at the wedding ring on her finger. Her free hand clasped her husband's ring which she'd threaded onto a silver chain around her neck.

"I miss you," she whispered to the darkness.

MacCready shifted in his sleep and let out another gentle snore. Sighing, she rolled over away from him and closed her eyes, hoping this time she could sleep without dreaming.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Fallout 4 fic. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Thanks for reading. :)


End file.
